He is still the front-runner to be his party's next leader, but in Blackpool David Davis was not the best candidate

WHAT a good idea it turned out to be. The not-quite-gone, but almost-completely-forgotten Michael Howard's derided plan to hold a party conference without a party leader has given the Tories their best week for years. A conference that many expected would be a morbidly introspective affair as the party attempted to come to terms with the reasons for a third shattering electoral defeat was nothing of the kind. Instead, there was excitement, optimism and even some tentative signs that Tories are at last trying to understand what they must do to win back power.

But do not get carried away. A leadership contest is inherently thrilling (at least for the kind of people who enjoy going to party conferences). Each adrenaline-pumped contender has had to perform, to persuade and to make “the speech of his life”. Rival gangs of backers roamed the bars, bending ears, grabbing elbows and, when absolutely necessary, buying drinks. There is a feeling of being caught up in something important. At this heady moment, everything seems possible, each candidate a projection of his supporter's dearest hopes.

But on December 5th, when the votes of some 250,000 party members will be in, a more prosaic reality will reassert itself. There will be a real leader with real flaws, who, thanks to an unsatisfactory electoral system, is unlikely to be the first choice, either of a majority of MPs or of the party's activists. Ahead of him will be the grind of four more years in opposition and the task of rebuilding a party that, for all the buzz in Blackpool this week, has not even begun to convince the country that it has changed.

That task will be none the easier if, as still seems likely, it falls to David Davis. Although Mr Davis was comprehensively outplayed this week by both Ken Clarke and David Cameron, the leadership is still his to lose. Thanks to a disciplined campaign at Westminster run by some of the party's most fearsome former whips, Mr Davis has so far rounded up endorsements from at least 66 of the party's 198 MPs. If they vote as promised, Mr Davis needs just one more to guarantee that he will be one of the two candidates going forward to the ballot of party members.

By the final round of voting at Westminster, Mr Davis is banking on his team winning almost twice as much support as his nearest rival. If it secures such a lead, the Davis camp will leave the party's activists in no doubt that it would be a dreadful mistake to impose as leader on the MPs anyone other than their man. Deference is not what it was in the Tory party, but the members are likely to take such a warning seriously—after all, however unfairly, they got the blame in 2001 for choosing the disastrous Iain Duncan Smith.

Whether the Davis battleplan survives the excitement of Blackpool is another matter. Mr Clarke electrified the conference with a typically bullish and brutal critique of the government's failings. Mr Cameron provided hope and uplift in a speech that combined passion with precocious professionalism. By contrast, when Mr Davis had his turn, he seemed to know neither how to attack nor how to inspire. He was dull and flat. Even the almost comically ideological Liam Fox beat him for rhetoric and vision.

Mr Davis's supporters explained that big set-piece conference speeches are not their man's strength. But his performance at fringe gatherings was not much better. On policy, he was routinely slipshod, suggesting that such countries as Switzerland, the Netherlands and Sweden had better public services than Britain despite being poorer, when, over a 20 year period they have been richer according to the relevant measure of GDP per head and have spent heavily on schools and health. He also made the extraordinary assertion that a restrictive immigration policy would help downtrodden illegal immigrants, such as the Morecambe Bay cockle-pickers. In fact, the more difficult legal immigration is made, the more the illegal sort will flourish. And his political instincts let him down, too. Honesty is a virtue, but his macho claim that, while he might once have changed a nappy in an emergency, he had never cooked a meal at home was a strange boast for someone wanting to lead a party that has haemorrhaged support among women and younger voters.

Mr Davis has his strengths. He is tough, ambitious and more strategic than any of his recent predecessors. He also has an easy, jocular confidence. He commands fierce loyalty. But the question many people in Blackpool were asking was whether choosing an old-fashioned machine politician as leader was really the best the party could do.

A run for his money

For all the growing misgivings about Mr Davis, if Mr Clarke is his opponent in the ballot of party members, he should scrape through. Mr Clarke is a splendid old war-horse, but he remains a divisive figure for many Tories, who cannot bring themselves to forgive him for his pro-European heresies.

But if the choice is Mr Cameron, a different and fascinating situation could develop. In the past week Mr Cameron has acquired that most precious political asset—momentum. Where Mr Davis has under-performed, he has out-performed. A large focus group assembled by “Newsnight”, a current-affairs programme, which was given information about each of the candidates, swung heavily behind Mr Cameron. The more they saw of him, the more they liked him. The same seemed to apply to the activists in Blackpool, now returning to their constituencies. If the newspapers and television decide that Mr Cameron is the coming man, Mr Davis could face a stiffer fight than seemed possible only a few days ago, especially if Mr Clarke's support transfers to the Cameron camp before the final round of voting.

Mr Cameron is still a punt. He has grit and resilience, but he is young and untried. He has the disadvantage of not yet being politically fully formed. Mr Davis's disadvantage is that he is.